Mass Effect: Doing the rounds
by Janizary
Summary: Everyone who knows Mass Effect knows about 'The Rounds'. Shepard's tireless efforts to bolster crew morale, share things that others probably feel a bit uncomfortable with, and generally pester people who might have better things to do. Some of the off-screen things our dear Commander has stumbled into in his quest for companionship.
1. Chapter 1

Shep 'doing his rounds' has always been a spot of chuckled-filled "what-if" possibilities left rolling about in the back of my head. With a bit of encouragement from a few people, I'm going to "try" to put some of those thoughts to paper.

No chronological order, m-Shep and/or f-shep are both up for game. I might even 'borrow' a few other people's Shepards here and there. No promises, but here's the first installment (of, hopefully, more). My usual disclaimer: I'm not a writer. Just inspired by some really good FF authors to be a bit more brave. Thank you. You know who you folks are. :D

I don't own Mass Effect, Bioware, or EA. If I did, I'd have been more focused on share-holder equity than 'holding the line' on 'artistic vision'.

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Setting: Normandy SR2 - Just past seven bells into Middle watch. Shepard, having lost track of the time, prowls the ship looking for conversation.

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Restless after the last mission, and frankly more than a bit disturbed by his latest conversation with Jack (_though, _he thought with a chuckle, _'disturbed' was pretty much a standard in any form of interaction with Jack_), Shepard stepped off the elevator onto the crew deck. Turning right Shepard-still absorbed in attempting to unravel 'Jack speak' in his head-slowly walked past the mess area, nodding at the few crewman present as he approached the XO's cabin.

He almost walked into the door.

_Curious_, Shepard though with a smirk and unconscious scratch of his left ear. Miranda rarely locked her cabin. In fact, he'd _never _encountered her door locked. Curiosity overriding caution, his omni-tool flared to life for a moment, and the door slid open to reveal…darkness.

_Huh_? He thought eloquently, as he stood staring at the darkened XO's office.

"Miranda?" He inquired, slowly stepping into the room, his right hand fumbling the lights on. Not seeing his XO at her desk he turned toward her sleeping quarters (_brilliant deduction there, John…why would she be sitting at her desk in the dark? No, wait, don't answer that._) to find something…startling. His normally quick mind struggled with what he saw before him: Miranda, rising quickly from her bed…in pink pajamas…with…booties? Was that a unicorn she'd just stuffed under the pillows?

"_Sheparrrd_" The now-awakened woman growled. He'd never head Miranda 'growl' before, "What do you WANT?" It was a _really_ good growl. Terrifying in a 'pink pajamas serial killer' kind of way.

Taking a step back, hastily clearing his throat, he fumbled out, "I was just doing my rounds and wanted to check in…" His words were cut short as she slowly stepped off the bed. Except Miranda hadn't _stepped_; she had sort of 'floated' upright. And she was glowing. Rather more like dripping black fire from her now darkly-luminous form really.

"_Commander_," Miranda intoned deeply, her eyes alit with an indigo flare of promethean radiance "OUT!"

Shepard nearly tripped over the door tracts in his haste to comply. Embarrassed, and quite frankly a bit scared, he turned to make a hasty retreat.

"_Sheparrrd._" There is was again, that _growly_ thing. It stopped him in his tracks.

"Not a word of this." The dark 'thing' behind him hissed. He tried to conjure a mental image of the pink PJs with booties, but it just burst into flames. Dark flames with skulls in them.

He cleared his throat, while firmly NOT looking over his shoulder, and began to reply, "Of course, Officer Lawson, I'd nev…" WHOOSHBLAM! The doors slid closed behind him with a great deal more force than they should. Two crewmen on late watch, who had been idly sitting at the mess table, nearly fell out of their seats at the noise. One did actually. Just a little. And there might have been a scream…having something to do with hot coffee.

While the other crewman was distracted trying to help her scalded table-mate off the floor his Infiltrator training took over. He activated his tactical cloak and vanished, wondering for how long he could avoid 'The thing in the room'.

He was good at not being seen (quite brilliant actually), but the Normandy was not a terribly large ship after all…


	2. Chapter 2 - Garrus

A/N: Trying something slightly different for the dialog. Unplanned scene. Just came to me today.

I don't own Mass Effect, Bioware, or EA. If I did, "Vastly different endings" would have been "Vastly different endings".

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Setting: Mass Effect 3 – Normandy – Thanix Cannon Bay

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"Garrus?"

Head-deep in an access panel opening, the Turian's voice echoed out, "Shepard, what can I do for you?" Withdrawing his head, he turned and walked a few paces toward the Commander.

Shepard stopped, mouth compressed in a thin line. "I just realized something."

Garrus cocked his head to the side, wobbling his mandibles slightly. "That you've made a terrible career choice and are thinking that 'Savoir of the Galaxy' does not translate well on a resume?"

The Commander's nose flared in a snort of laughter as he threw a loose retaining pin toward his sarcastic friend. "Not quite," he replied. "Why is it I never saw you anywhere but the cargo bay when we were on the original Normandy?"

Garrus' jaw hung open for a moment, and then he laughed. "Really, Shepard? Sentient organic life hangs in the balance and you're worried about my extracurricular activities?" Raising his omnitool he continued, "I need to write this down for my memoirs."

"Okay, sandwich, answer me this: Where did you sleep?"

Putting one hand against his workstation, Garrus sighed, "Are we really doing this?" Shaking the spanner he had clutched in his talons in Shepard's direction he continued, "You're not a sore loser about my 'Winning Shot', are you?"

To which Shepard crossed his arms, leaning back against the doorway.

Seeing the Commander was not going to be dissuaded, Garrus shook his head. "In the Mako. Hot bunking with the crew made my plates itch."

Shepard seemed to ponder that for a moment, then uncrossed his arms. "Okay, I'll give you that." Shaking a finger at the Turian he continued, "But where did you eat?"

Garrus moved back toward the open access panel, "Back then? Again, in the Mako. All my food stores were packed rations, so it didn't really make a difference whether I ate in the mess or in the cargo bay, did it?" He turned back toward Shepard, one hand raised in a palm-up gesture. "Besides, those first few weeks onboard were a bit uncomfortable for all us 'aliens'. Making myself scarce probably made your job easier. Look at what happened with Liara and Ash." Garrus chuckled, "Besides, Wrex, Warrant Officer Emerson, crewman Bakari and I had a good card game going."

"Emerson? Really?"

Garrus leaned back against the machine casing, a small snort of laughter escaping. "Yeah, between Emerson and Wrex I was pretty strapped. It's a good thing room and board was free. I was broke."

"Huh? I wouldn't have guessed that…" Shepard paused, eyes narrowing slightly, "You're trying to distract me."

Garrus shrugged, raising his hands in a 'who me' gesture. He then pointed over his shoulder with the spanner. "These guns don't calibrate themselves you know."

At that point EDI's synthetic voice chimed in via the ship's com, 'Actually, officer Vakarian…"

Garrus coughed (a sound more like chuff of rocks grinding together than its human equivalent) neatly interrupting whatever it was EDI was about to reveal. "Not now, EDI. Remember the…talk?"

Before EDI could respond, Shepard snapped his fingers. "The head."

Garrus' mandibles jutted forward slightly. "What about my head?"

"Not _your_ head. _The_ head."

"Who's head?"

"The ship's head."

"EDI's head?" Garrus was on a roll now.

Shepard's eyes narrowed once more, "Now you're just messing with me, Vakarian."

"Well, someone has to keep things in perspective."

Leaning against the main control panel Shepard glared at his friend, "Stop trying to change the subject."

Shrugging, Garrus turned back to the access panel, sticking his head inside, "What subject was that, mighty Spectre?" His hand, still outside the casing, waved the spanner aimlessly in the air.

"Even _you_ have to use the head, Garrus."

_***BANG***_ Garrus' head hit the top of the casing. Rubbing his crest in pain, he slowly pulled his head from within the casing. "This conversation has just taken a turn for the worse," he said, one eye closed in a grimace of pain, the other glaring at his torturer.

"Come on, Garrus, there might have been a portable in the Mako, but you'd have to leave the weapons bay to…you know," Shepard finished, his hand waving about in some 'human' gesture Garrus was supposed to understand.

"Don't you have a galaxy to save or something?" Garrus gritted out, one talon gesturing about in a sweeping movement.

"You're not weaseling out of this one, Vakarian."

Garrus paused for a moment, appearing to consult his eye piece. "What do endangered Earth mustelids have to do with anything, Shepard? Is this another obscure humanism?"

"You're doing it again."

Garrus canted his head, the Turian equivalent of a smile gracing his face, "Hah. Can't blame me for trying. Really, Shepard, you don't want to know."

"No. Garrus. I. Really. Do."

Garrus sighed again. Turning toward Shepard he banged the spanner against his armored chest piece. "The better question would have been 'Why don't I ever see you out of your armor, Vakarian'?" So saying, he turned back to his calibrations.

Shepard was confused for exactly two seconds, then the answer came to him.

Ewww.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Professor

A/N: Short(er), but I've had this on my list for a while and it decided to leap for freedom this afternoon.

I don't own Mass Effect, Bioware, or EA. If I did I have asked the question 'What will the Leviathans do once the Reapers are gone' _before_ releasing the DLC. Oh wait...

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Setting: Mass Effect 2 (between 'The Suicide Mission' and 'Arrival') – Normandy – Mad Scientist's Lair

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Professor, have you got a minute to talk?

Mordin looked up from his latest batch of experiments, cocking his head to the side, blinking a few times before responding, "Ah, Shepard. Yes! Wanted to talk, actually."

_Well, that's different_, thought the commander as he walked to Mordin's workstation. Lately it's been '_Can't talk now, creating treatment for crewman Chamber's scale itch_', or '_Not now, commander! Nanites have escaped captivity!_'. Mordin actually wanted to talk to him? He hoped it wasn't another '_Shepard, need your help on a matter_'. "Yeah, Doc? What's on your mind?"

Mordin 'smiled', "Excellent human phrase. Context amusing, and accurate. Curious no direct Salarian equivalent." He paused for a moment, face pinching. Raising a digit to tap his temple he continued, "Closest corollary is human 'What is eating you?'. Though implies something else entirely…"

"Mooor-din," Shepard prompted, trying to catch the salarian before he lost himself in yet another round of 'bore the commander to death', "you have something for me?"

Mordin, who had unconsciously begun to lecture his own reflection in a lab mirror, turned back the commander, "Ah (cough), yes. Medical matters." He walked around the lab table, stepping close to Shepard's side. Leaning his head toward the commander, he continued in a hushed tone, "Aware that mission is dangerous, different species react differently to stress. Aware you come by a great deal. Have had other species become attracted to me before." He sniffed, the continued firmly. "Awkward. Not interested."

"Uh…" the commander stammered out, somewhat lacking in his usual elegance. At the moment, however, he was having difficulty just forming coherent thoughts. _Mordin thinks I…want…?_

Seeing the commander's shocked countenance, the elder scientist patted Shepard's arm in consolation. "Apologies, commander, didn't believe you'd take it so hard."

Shepard's mind was racing. A red icon seemed to flash in his peripheral vision. _What? Wait… _"Mordin!" he sputtered, "You know I'm in a 'relationship' with Miranda, right?"_ That's the ticket. **Focus**. Think about Miranda._

Mordin waved a hand dismissively as he moved back behind his workstation. "Psh!" the salarian exclaimed. "Male crew members refer to you as 'a player'. Female crew-members have betting pool. Known history of experimentation with aliens." _What?!_

"Wait, Mordin..." Shepard began.

The salarian smoothly interrupted, tutting, "Perfectly logical, nothing to be embarrassed about."

Shepard coughed, "I'm not embarrassed, Mordin, I…"

"Ah, good," the salarian smiled. "Feared denying sexual interest would strain working relationship." A speculative look came over his features as he continued, "Alternative considered. Awkward given circumstances, however."

_Did he just? Gah... _

"Mordin! I am _**not** _sleeping with you."

A small gasp came from behind him, followed by a terribly-familiar 'cough'. _Nononononono!_

"No need to be rude. Didn't propose," Mordin sniffed in indignation.

From behind came a choked gargle of familiar laughter.

_No?_

Shepard turn around...slowly.

Kasumi stood just inside the doorway, hand raised to her mouth, trying to conceal a smile, eyes twinkling in mischief and mirth. But the universe was not done with its cruelty yet. Next to her, paused in mid-stride, mandibles twitching in feigned shock, stood…Garrus.

_And now I'll just die. _

_Right here. _

_Please?_

"Soooo," Garrus drawled with a gleefully malicious undertone, "does Miranda know?".

"Yes, Shep," Kasumi smiled like an (_evil_) Cheshire cat, "please, do tell."

_Of course...it just **had** to be these two. *facepalm*_


	4. Chapter 4 - Sucker bets

**A/N:** This was actually the first idea I had for 'Rounds'. The summary paragraphs just never gelled until today.

Note: This chapter jumps back and forth in time (between two time periods in close relation to one another). I hope the section breaks and notations make it clear.

I claim no ownership rights, privileges, or super secret double probationary insider trading for Mass Effect, Bioware or EA. If I did, Shepard would own a damn razor.

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Setting: Mass Effect 2 - Normandy SR2 - Shortly before 'Joker's Jump' / 'A House Divided'

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"Vakarian-Officer, how may we be of assistance?"

Stepping into the AI core, the turian scowled at the geth platform, ignoring it as he began peering behind the XTX frames, muttering as he went.

"Vakarian-Officer, may we be of assistance?" Legion repeated, head-flaps raising in a display of inquiry.

Having investigated the void behind each electronics stack, Garrus growled "I heard you the first time, Legion." With that he extended his arms and began waving his talons about directly in front of him as he slowly made his way around the chamber.

"Vakarian-Officer, are you experiencing difficulty with your ocular sensors?"

Dropping his hands, the turian eyed the geth platform silently. His gaze slowly sliding away, casting about the core, at the overhead, the bulkheads, deck, into each shadowed nook and cranny, before finally coming back to rest directly on the platform's illuminated 'eye'.

Several runtimes began to analyze the organic neurological concept of 'nervous'.

"Vakarian-Officer, we would be…", Legion began before being silenced by a rapidly-raised talon. Additional runtimes were allocated to the initial analysis. A second string was assigned to query stress-induced turian mental disorders.

The former C-Sec officer's eyes swept side-to-side, his talon still held up before the platform's optical input. Refraining from external vocal communications, the geth's head-flaps began to rise and fall in irregular bursts. Turning abruptly, the turian quickly strode to the access crawl-way and vanished within.

Legion's head-flaps slowly folded flat against its 'head'. Organics were sometimes incomprehensible.

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_Earlier - Port Observation Deck (aka The Lounge)_

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"You know, Garrus, this is starting to sound like an old beer commercial," Shepard drawled as he arranged his cards.

The turian raised his brow-plates, snorting as he leaned back, peering over the top of his cards. "There's really nothing to debate, Shepard. I think you're just stalling now. Why prolong the agony? Just slide those credits over here and slink off to your quarters."

Before the commander could respond, Garrus gave a lazy turian smile. "Or the XO's…"

"Now you're just playing dirty, Vakarian." Shepard growled as he tossed his cards down on the table in disgust. Collectors he could fight, but that hand was a hopeless cause. "A little support here, anyone?"

Thane and Kasumi both chuckled. The drell's a rasp and thrum like the sound of a taut mooring rope, the little thief's a tinkle of silvery mirth.

"Avoidance of conflict is somewhat the tenet of your debate, commander," Thane replied with an almost invisible smile. "Perhaps you could benefit from that in both arenas?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed in mock outrage. He leaned away from the table, arms folding across his chest as he smirked at his table mates.

Kasumi laid a comforting hand on the commander's knee. "Oh, no, Shep," the thief laughed, "We agree with you about the debate." She winked with a broad smile, "You're just a terrible card player."

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"Garrus?" the quarian asked hesitantly, "What are you doing?"

"Just a moment, Tali," the turian said distractedly as he waved his omni-tool about.

The young quarian 'harrumphed' in response and began tapping a foot against the deck. "Really, Garrus, if there's something wrong don't you think you might want to let the _engineer_ know about it?"

Rapping his armored talons against a large alloy duct, he sighed. "Just tracing a… system fault, Tali." He rapped the duct again, now scanning it with his omni-tool. "Nothing to worry about." He looked over his shoulder at her, "Does this open?"

Tali threw her hands into the air. "That's a high pressure conduit, Garrus." Consternation lacing her voice, she continued, "What could you **_possibly_** be looking for in there?"

Garrus turned and walked toward the stairs.

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_Earlier - The lounge_

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"Kasumi, _you_ I can see agreeing with the commander." Garrus turned to appraise his drell friend, "But I thought you'd be on my side for this, Thane."

The drell shrugged, his shoulders rising marginally under his long coat. "The best assassins are those that remain unseen by their targets."

Garrus shook his head, waving one talon in a motion of denial. "You'd never get close enough," his mandibles stretched in a confident smile. "Once I see you," the turian pantomimed aiming a rifle, "it's all over." He rocked back in phantom recoil from his 'gun'.

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"What the hell do you want, frag face?"

Garrus never, _ever_, came down to Jack's hidey-hole. Jack thought they had an 'understanding'. He stayed out of _her_ little slice of hell, and she stayed out of his. Yet there he was, armored space cricket pissing about her space, poking his head around, looking for shit-knows what.

Ignoring her.

"I'm gonna' wipe the floor with you if you don't get the f..." she began, her shoulders beginning to glow with biotic fire, but stopped when the crazed turian vaulted the safety railing. Jack watched in astonishment as the batshit space turkey calmly squeezed himself past the 'YOU ARE GOING TO DIE FROM RADIATION' warning sign. _Great_, she thought in rising ire, _stupid lizard-pigeon is going to die back there and stink up the place_.

"I'm not coming in there to save your scaly ass, Vakarian!"

The only reply was a series of clunks, clangs, and rasping sounds as Garrus continued to move about in the core's sub-floor maintenance area.

Jack pursed her lips, one delicate brow raised in appraisal. It wasn't often she encountered someone crazier than herself.

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_Earlier - The lounge_

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Shepard held up a hand, forestalling Thane's response. The drell sat back, a slight smile playing across his face.

"That's the thing, Vakarian," the commander said waggling a finger under the turian's nose (beak?), "you have to actually _see_ me first."

Garrus slapped his talons against his leg plates, his rock-grinding chuckle filling the lounge. "Shep, you're easy. All I have to do is see where the terrified civilians are running from and the buildings are burning." He leaned back, talons behind his head. "That's where you'll be."

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"Not here, Garrus." Joker said without bothering to rotate his seat…or even glace over his shoulder at the turian who had just entered the pilot's compartment.

" How did you..?"

"_Really?_" Joker's hand waved about indicating the myriad of ship-wide camera feeds, as well as EDI's hovering icon.

"Got it."

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_Earlier - The lounge_

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Shepard slowly shook his head, sucking air through his teeth. "Good thing you've got a day job, Garrus. You're comedy act needs some work."

"Truth hurts, commander," the turian said in an offhand manner, for all appearances polishing his talons on his chestplate.

"Stealth kills."

Garrus waved a lazy talon near his mouth, exhaling twice in sharp succession on the dagger-tipped digits. He raised a bored gaze up to the commander. "Then everyone must be safe from you."

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"**_OUT!_**"

The door slammed shut behind the fleeing turian intruder.

Flopping back down on her bed, Miranda sighed, "I really need to start locking my door."

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_Earlier - The lounge_

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"Big words, Garrus." Shepard leaned forward, eyes narrowing at his turian friend, "I think a challenge might be in order."

"Oh?" Suddenly interested, Garrus leaned forward, "I'll bite, Shepard. What did you have in mind?"

Shepard's lips twisted into an evil grin, "A game."

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_Ship's Mess - Morning Watch - Just after Three Bells_

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A tired, dirty (and slightly radioactive) Garrus limped into the crew mess. The bustling, noisy room quieted as the crew present took in the turian's appearance and plodding gait. Not that it was unusual to see members of the 'dirty dozen' in a somewhat "apocalypse chic" state of disarray. Garrus' less-than-Adonis face and battle-scarred armor was as 'normal' to the crew as the commander and his infamous green training briefs (don't ask) on his morning runs.

That said, even after the most difficult missions, armor leaking turian blood and still smoldering from kinetic impacts, the former C-Sec officer always, _always_, carried himself with a form of rigid military discipline (Joker had a _special_ phrase for _that_). The crew was therefore justified in coming to silence as the disheveled turian stopped at the head of the larger of two mess tables.

Looking about, Garrus weakly cleared his throat, "Has anyone seen the Commander, Thane, or Kasumi?"

A chorus of 'nos', blank stares…and more than a few giggles (some from crew who had already 'encountered' the wandering turian during his ship-wide quest) answered the inquiry. Grumbling irritably he shuffled back towards the elevator.

_I hate this game_, Garrus thought sourly.

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_Earlier - The lounge_

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"Sooo," Garrus drawled in shrewd anticipation, "How do I win?"

"All you have to do is find one of us. _Any_ one of us, and you win the game."

"Hmmm. How long do I have?"

"Let's say, Morning Watch…four bells?"

"Hmph, so what is this game called?"

Shepard's voice took on a serious undertone as he leaned forward conspiratorially, "It's an ancient Earth game, played down through the years by many of our greatest warriors…"

Garrus interrupted, his small eyes rolling in an exaggerated manner, "Stalling now…"

Shepard grinned, "Hide and Seek."

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**A/N:** Yes, I'm picking on Garrus. It's fun. I love the Garrus/Shep bromance/rivalry. The 'Citadel Sniper Contest' in ME3 was laughter in a bottle for me. I wubs Garrus. Don't tell Setrus though. Seriously. ;)


	5. Chapter 5 - Thane

**A/N:** This didn't end up exactly how I pictured it, it kinda' mutated as I pried it out of my rusty iron trap (brain). A departure from my normal methods. Hope you still like it.

Yes, this breaks light speed for a chapter update from me. But someone wanted to know ;)

Disclaimer: I lease a copy of Mass Effect 3, but don't own Bioware or EA. If I did, I would have let you shoot the starchild. Twice.

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Thane crouched low, blending into the shadows, unseen to the civilians who passed his current refuge. His breath came in short, wet rasps, labored from hours of pursuit. Not pursuit of a target, but a target pursuing _him_.

_Clank. Scratch. Clank. Scratch._

Time.

Time was against him.

He couldn't stay in one place for long, the passing minutes like varren closing on their prey. He needed to move.

As the walkway cleared, he silently unfolded himself, slipping noiselessly behind a pair of passersby. As they entered a larger, open area, their unnoticed shadow detached, blending into another darkened niche.

_Clank. Scratch. Clank. Scratch._ His pursuer was close.

The drell rolled into an adjacent alcove, without pause moving rapidly along its adjoining wall. More voices could be heard, approaching his position. Trapped between the approaching civilians and his relentless pursuer, the assassin swiftly ducked through the (fortuitously) unlocked door of a adjacent residence unit. With some relief he found the interior was dark, appearing unoccupied. He stepped quickly inside, engaging the door lock behind him.

Rather than explore the interior, the drell froze, listening. While the living space might appear to be unoccupied, years of experience told him otherwise. Someone, or something, was in the dwelling with him.

Even in the most silent of spaces, telltale sounds existed. The swish/thud of footsteps passing beyond the door. The hiss of fluid as it passed through pipes within the walls. The slight whir of electronics. All normal, expected.

Ah…there it was, almost imperceptible: the slow respiration of someone in slumber. _Or feigning slumber._

_Clank. Scratch. Clank. Scratch_. The sound of his pursuer closing. He moved deeper into the dwelling, forced by necessity into the sleeping chamber of the occupant. _Human, female, no weapons in sight, _he quickly, instinctively, assessed_. _Crouching behind a sturdy recliner, he collapsed himself into as small a target as possible. _A poor position to be sure._

_Clank. Scratch_. His pursuer had stopped outside the door, unmoving. Waiting. Then came the sound of an omni-tool being activated. The door lock disengaged. Thane tensed, prepared to sacrifice himself for the security of the room's sleeping occupant.

Yet the door did not open.

_Tap. Click. cLicK. _

Thane waited.

From beyond the door: A growl of consternation. More tapping. The sound of the omni-tool being shut down. A grunt.

Disturbed by the noise, the bed's occupant…

_…rolled over, eye membranes fluttering open. Confused at first, then fastening on his shadowy form._

_"Thane?", she asked, head rising from her pillow, a hopefulness in her trilling voice, "Is that you?" Receiving no answer the lithe woman sat up, sleep clearing from her eyes. _

_"Siha," Irikah smiled warmly, hand now raised to beckon him forward, "why are you standing alone in the dark?"_

_Thane smiled in return, stepping forward, "Watching you sleep."_

_"Silly man," she said, pulling him into her embrace, "come to bed."_

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Noises intruded upon his reflection, voices, a shout of outrage, a door sliding closed, the woman returning to sleep.

He was too deep to care, crouched in the darkness, lost in his own shadows. Adrift with his own ghosts.

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Much later, swimming up from the gloaming of his reflections, Thane was aware of someone entering the room.

As his mind slowly cleared, he observed the intruder—_human, male, unarmed—_make his way to the bed, yawning broadly as he sank down to a seated position, opposite its female occupant. Scratching himself, the man began to remove his shirt. Midway through another yawn, the man froze, head halfway through the collar, one arm caught awkwardly in the fabric. Turning slightly, he looked directly at the drell.

A whisper, "Thane?"

(Cough) "Yes, commander."

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"It's 0630."

"As you say, commander."

"Why are you hiding in Miranda's room?"

"It was..convenient."

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"The scary turian went to bed. You can leave now."

"Of course, Shepard."

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**A/N:** And there it is. Little bit of humor at the end. I stared at it when I was done (scratching my own head), and decided to publish it anyway. Hope it didn't sour anyone on reading. Future merriment involving Shepard's (infamous) green training briefs (as well as some FemShep installments...I haven't forgotten those) shall be forth coming. I just need to shake the rust free :D


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